


Hope Is A Heartache

by goatsongs



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Feelings, M/M, in which there's no trap and everything is fine, it's a drabble, post-159, wilde and zolf deserve some alone time so i gave it to them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatsongs/pseuds/goatsongs
Summary: Zolf and Wilde have a conversation about... stuff. Feelings.
Relationships: Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	Hope Is A Heartache

After a while, Zolf walks out the door looking pained and sidles up to Oscar, who was waiting for them outside the rundown building, back against the wall, arms crossed, observing the passersby with a frown that Zolf knows has nothing to do with whatever is in front of him. Oscar doesn’t respond to Zolf’s presence, lost in thoughts probably far too dark for his own good.

“Azu’s, uh, takin’ care of things.” Says Zolf, mostly to make himself known.

Oscar snaps out slowly to look over at Zolf quietly, an apprehensive look taking over his features. Zolf looks away from him, heat rising to his cheeks as his mind goes back to his friends’ jests.  
  
“I’m tired.” Says Oscar after about a minute of silence. Zolf sighs, knowing that this is one of the rare moments in which Oscar will be too exhausted to hide his disappointment. He feels responsible for every bad thing that has happened, and Zolf, to his dismay, finds himself comforted by the knowledge. Together they’ve been carrying the weight of their past and the fate of the entire world for the better part of two years, as well as more grief than a person should be capable of holding. It gets lonely, and it’s nice to know that he is not the only one carrying the burden. Zolf looks back at Oscar, and pushes gently aside the urge to place his hand on the other man’s arm. He doesn’t have the energy right now to pay attention to Oscar’s cues. Instead he breathes again, letting the heavy air travel through his lungs with the weight of lead and settle into his chest.  
  
“I know.” Because what else is there to say? Earhart is broken by grief. Curie has gone cold with grief. Oscar, well, Oscar is trying his best. And the rest of his friends, well, the joy of life still seemed to permeate the air around them, and Zolf thinks with a bitter taste on his tongue how lucky they were to be hidden in the folds of time as their world collapsed around them, as him, Barnes, Carter and Oscar watched the life leave their homes to blue veins growing like vines over normality. In a way, Zolf feels like the outside world now resembles the intricacies of his own beaten mind. It is a thought that exhausts him.

“Do you think Earhart will budge?” Asks Oscar, but it sounds like an empty question. The reality of the situation is that they need her too, and there’s no space for alternative options or a slow and gentle recovery. If she doesn’t budge, they will have to give her no choice. Zolf hopes it won’t come to it, because the mere thought of someone pushing _him_ to do something he isn’t emotionally capable of shoots a bout of nausea through his chest and into his throat. 

“Azu is… very capable with these things.” 

There’s a light shiver at the corner of Oscar’s lips.  
  
“These things.” Oscar repeats, his smile widening.

Zolf pauses, then lets out a quiet laugh.  
  
“Stop it, you’re worse than me at feelings.” He says, looking down at his feet, amused.  
  
“What are you talking about, I don’t have feelings.”  
  
“Sure you don’t.” When Zolf looks up, he meets Oscar’s eyes, a rare twinkling in his blue irises. Zolf feels alive for the briefest moment beneath that gaze.  
Oscar lets his soft smirk fade as he looks at Zolf. A new thought clearly shadows his mind again as he frowns.  
  
“Zolf,” he pauses once, “I hope that- Well. I didn’t mean to overstep, with my joke earlier.”  
  
Zolf looks away again, sighing heavily. He doesn’t want to talk. He thinks about Azu, at the top of the building, trying to gently coax Earhart out of her trough. He decides that what he wants isn’t the best course of action.  
  
“I- I don’t know Wilde. You know how I feel about it, I think.”  
  
“Yes, and you know I agree with you, Zolf. But-” Oscar stops himself.  
  
“But, what?”  
  
“But I… I don’t know, alright? This is as hard for me as it is for you.” Oscar brings a hand up to lightly trace his scar, and when he notices what he’s doing he moves it to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.  
  
“I don’t know about that. Between the two of us, you’re the people person.”  
  
“Am I though?” Oscar looks frustrated, Zolf notices.  
  
“Okay, okay. Look,” Zolf extends his hand to touch Oscar’s wrist, and Oscar doesn’t hesitate to take his hand. The touch is still tentative though, unfamiliar, and a need spreads through Zolf in a way that makes him almost squirm in discomfort, but he holds on and breathes through it.  
  
“Wilde, I- I don’t want the others to know because _I_ don’t know, okay? This is all, a mess, and it’s not like it was when it was only us anymore. I can’t-” Zolf stops, the words jumbling at the front of his mind and tripping over themselves in his throat, “I can’t _deal_ with all of it. Them being back, being alive. And Hamid with those goddamn kobolds and Shoin, you know, the fact that we’ve been at it for months with _nothing_ and they show up and suddenly everything’s up the air and for fuck’s sake Wilde, we’re going to Svalbard and we have no ide-”  
  
“Hey,” Oscar brings his other hand to place on top of Zolf’s.  
  
Zolf takes a steadying breath. They never touch this much. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.  
  
“I know Zolf, I know. I get it. I will stop joking around, if it makes you uncomfortable. And I don’t want to make you feel like it’s a joke to me, because it isn’t.” They are looking at each other, and Zolf’s eyes weakly trace the tired lines of Oscar’s face, so familiar in its movements, so easy to read, now that he knows it so well.  
  
“Okay.” He says, because he doesn’t want to talk about it, and words are hard, and everything is difficult when the world is ending and it’s on your shoulders.  
  
Oscar searches his face, unconvinced.  
  
“Look, it’s not the… sentiment, that makes me uncomfortable. It’s people knowin’ about it. I know that we have… We understand each other and people notice that and read it, read it as, you know, _that_ -”  
  
“Which it is.” Oscar adds, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  
  
“Yes, Wilde, fine. It is. In a way.” 

  
The admission doesn’t change Wilde’s expression, and Zolf wants to hit himself.  
  
“I know, Zolf. The world is ending, yada yada, all that.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Oscar drops his hands away and crosses them again. Zolf can see how hard Oscar is trying not to shut down.  
  
“Well, Cel is still quite set on the idea, and I can’t really do anything about them.” Says Oscar after a moment.  
  
“I know. When we actually get married, we can ask them to do the honours.” Zolf jokes, and Oscar, to his relief, lets out a soft laugh. Zolf closes his eyes and lets the soft yellow glow of hope pulse through his chest, gentle and aching. It’s very faint, these days. But it’s still there. It always is.

**Author's Note:**

> im wildly uncomfortable about people knowing about my (rare) romantic dwellings so im big time projecting onto zolf here and i won't be taking criticisms at this time.
> 
> anyway thank you alex and lydia for my rights and thank you to my eternal beta and great friend oscar (@oscarlovesthesea).
> 
> the title is from the homonymous song "Hope Is A Heartache" by LEON it's v good, go listen to it


End file.
